


trembling on some new beginning.

by incalyscent



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Cunnilingus, F/M, Lowercase, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Wing Kink, i swear i'll write something you can read eventually, i wrote this all in one sitting so, local ace writes porn, local poet writes prose, no beta we die like men, sabe don't look, why is lucifer pov so hard to write y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 19:09:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21276242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incalyscent/pseuds/incalyscent
Summary: on the seventh day, lucifer worshipped.spent six day just coming home to her; six days crawling on his belly in the sand just to make sure he couldn’t hurt her, that nothing was chasing him; six days dripping like holy water on her skin in the form of soft kisses, gentle words.  every part of him wanted to kneel for her, every part of him wanted to pray to the only thing he knew deserved it, but no.  the time wasn’t right - both of them needed the time.  six days to grovel, six days tempted by the apple sweet scent of her, six days until neither of them could bear it anymore.





	trembling on some new beginning.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redledgers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redledgers/gifts).

> when the birds are heard again in their singin'  
once atrocity is hoarse from voicin’ shame  
and when the earth is **trembling on some new beginnin'**  
with the same sweet shock of when adam first came
> 
> -hozier, _be_.

on the seventh day, lucifer worshipped.

spent six day just coming home to her; six days crawling on his belly in the sand just to make sure he couldn’t hurt her, that nothing was chasing him; six days dripping like holy water on her skin in the form of soft kisses, gentle words. every part of him wanted to kneel for her, every part of him wanted to pray to the only thing he knew deserved it, but no. the time wasn’t right - both of them needed the time. six days to grovel, six days tempted by the apple sweet scent of her, six days until neither of them could bear it anymore.

when they fall into it there’s no easier thing than painting her skin with fingertips and tongue, no better sound than her soft gasp and low roll of thunder blessing upon his ears. it feels good when he finally lands on his knees, better when she threads her fingers through his hair and drags him forward until his cheek presses against her belly. he can feel her breathing, hear the rapid thrum of her heart, can’t help but press a thumb to the inside of her thigh to feel it flutter there. she’s alive. she’s alive and there and she wants him and that’s the only thing he’s ever been waiting for; to be wanted. to be loved.

she says _ lucifer _ with all the intention of a beloved praying to god, and it set him alight, holy fire burning in his bones. he doesn’t need to be told twice to lick his way between her legs, and the taste of her is better than the first drink of water he ever took; better than the taste of humanity’s first sin. her noise is better than any music and he loves it more, even as her legs twitch, her feet slide on the floor next to his knees. and he holds her up. he’ll always hold her up, even as she pulls on his hair so hard it makes him whimper; fire on top of fire on top of flame.

she doesn’t last long, and she comes with a cry and a shudder, hips bucking, and he lets her use him for all he’s worth. his knees are aching but it’s only the proper penance for such sweet a worship; he’ll gladly stay here - and hopefully will - until she’s gotten all she needs from him. still, she pulls hard enough his mouth come away from her clit and he’s not above the whine he makes, not above begging so he looks up at her and can barely handle the heat in her eyes even as he says _ please, please _ like he’s grovelling for his life. her hands come out of her hair and onto his shoulders and she nods, and he dives back into her like she’s the red sea and he’s only a prophet scorned.

she’s sensitive so her back arches and her hips stutter and lucifer grabs onto her like a lover’s last prayer, fingers in the soft meat of her thigh crawling over his shoulder, palm moulded around the hard jut of her hip bone. he fucks his tongue into her and listens to her fumble with his name, just one syllable too long, encourages her to rock against his face and grind against his nose, revels in how wet she is, drinking her up deeper than communion wine, faster than any man lost to the desert.

he doesn’t know when the wings fold into view but she does - wastes no time pushing her fingers into them and hanging on, and lucifer can’t help the open mouthed moan he makes against her, static zinging through him, making his mind a fog of _ yes _ and _ please _ and _ more _. she gets something out of it, he knows that she does, because she’s crashing over the edge of pleasure again, fingers tight into his wings, and he can feel himself pushing up into her hands, wings begging where a mouth cannot.

she nudges him away again, and he feels dazed, undone, holy in a way he hasn’t for so many years; younger than he has since the apple and the fall and yet older than all of eternity. here, kneeling in front of her, he eats a fruit he thought he’d never taste, one that exhillerates him and sobers him all at once. he’s hard in the pair of trousers they’d never managed to get rid of, sweating where she’d left his waistcoat to hang open and a few buttons undone. she’s panting, still groaning, still twitching, but is very deliberate when she curls her fists around the wrist of his wing and down the outside edge, and lucifer whimpers, rocking his hips, bereft of friction. but her hands feel better than anything on his wings, keeping him hazy, sparking pleasure down his spine to curl hot and persistent in his gut, making his wings shake, splayed out for her, begging for anything she’s willing to give.

and lucifer kisses her hip, the crease of her thigh; sinks his teeth into the tender skin on her inner leg, says _ once more, please _ and listens to the crescendo of her breath. says _ once more and i’ll come for you, chloe _ pressed into her thigh. he listens to her moan, just from that, hears her say _ god _ and then _ sorry _ and then _ please, lucifer, i want it _ . he’s never been obedient but he only wants to be good for her, so, _ so _ good, and the desperate noise he makes before he pulls her hips towards him and flattens his tongue against her clit is one of a man found of a saviour, and the sound she makes is one of something worshipped.

he holds her on the edge as long as he can but she’s trembling and tired and tries to tumble into orgasm as soon as his mouth is back on her, so he’s soft and gentle, hands pressing up her body to catch her breasts until on of her hands finds his and ties their fingers together so he can feel her heartbeat. and she reaches down at just the right time, scrapes her nails up the base of his wing, makes him groan and whine and tip her over the edge just so he can follow after her, feeling her pleasure in a loop where her fingers are sewn into his wings.

he licks at her until she can’t take it anymore, folds into herself, ends up on the floor in front of him, shaky and sweaty and smelling of sex but so bright in her eyes. she looks him over - rumpled, wings out, mouth wet - and kisses him anyways, and he kisses her back like it’s the only thing he wants to do because it is. they both need a shower, and lucifer needs a dry cleaner, but it would take the end of the world to pry him away from her when she takes him into his arms and kisses the side of his neck. for once lucifer isn’t losing something; he holds paradise in his arms.

**Author's Note:**

> bucky said 'lucifer eating chloe out like his life depends on it' and i snapped i guess
> 
> incalyscent-writes.tumblr.com


End file.
